Chapter Three

~Emilia

Still wearing my so-called wedding dress, I walked home barefoot, each step heavier than the last—like I was dragging the heartbreak behind me.

People stared.

Drivers slowed.

Strangers turned their heads.

But I kept walking.

My face was already swollen with tears. The mascara had dried into dark streaks down my cheeks. My veil flapped in the wind like a ghost of the bride I used to be.

The runaway bride.

No—the betrayed bride.

The news was everywhere already, but I didn’t care.

I couldn’t.

The sight I had witnessed this morning kept replaying in my mind—the man I loved, the man I was supposed to marry today, tangled in bed with my own sister.

I let the tears fall again. Hot. Silent. Endless.

I had hoped to return home to solitude. To just curl up, breathe, forget—if only for a moment.

But the second I stepped into the house, my father’s voice thundered from the living room.

“Why in God’s name would you raise your hand against your sister?”

My heart skipped a beat.

There he was—John Ashford—standing tall, eyes burning with fury.

Charlotte sat smugly on the couch, arms crossed, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat.

“Dad, please… listen to me. I caught Charlotte in bed with Malik—today. Our wedding day. That’s why I slapped her.”

“Enough!” he snapped, cutting me off.

“You don’t raise your hand against family. Especially your sister.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“Family? Is that what we are now? Because she didn’t act like one this morning.”

I cast a fierce, cold glance at Charlotte. Her lips curled into a smirk.

My father’s voice hardened.

“Apologize to your sister this minute!”

I shook my head, slow and steady.

“I will never do that, Dad. She was the one who hurt me.”

Silence.

My father exhaled sharply, stepping forward. His jaw clenched.

“Then consider your name removed from the family trust fund. You’ve lost the right to inherit Ashford Architecture.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. I staggered backward, dizzy.

For a second, I wished the floor would crack open and swallow me whole.

“You’re punishing me for what she did?”

His voice turned cold.

“You are unstable. Ungrateful. This family has no room for behavior like yours.”

I was devastated.

I didn’t understand.

How could he turn on me so easily? How could he believe her?

“You’re wicked, Dad. So wicked… and blind,” I said, barely holding it together.

Then—slap.

I winced, holding my cheek, stunned.

The man I’d spent my whole life trying to please had just struck me… for her.

I had given years—sacrificed time, sleep, joy—to help build Ashford Empire.

And this was my reward.

“Charlotte will be taking over Ashford Empire,” he announced flatly, like he hadn’t just destroyed me.

“Effective immediately.”

The room tilted.

My knees nearly gave way.

“You’re giving it to her? After everything I’ve done?”

“She’s shown consistency. Loyalty.”

“Loyalty?” I shot back.

“She couldn’t even stay loyal to me as a sister!”

My father waved me off like a nuisance.

“Get out of my house.”

I stared at him, speechless. Then, trembling and broken, I turned and walked away.

The cold air outside hit my skin like ice. My bare feet ached from the gravel, but I didn’t care.

My phone vibrated in my bra. I pulled it out with numb fingers.

Valerie.

I hesitated, then answered.

“Emilia? Oh my God, I just heard. The wedding… Is everything okay?”

Her voice was soft, warm. Familiar.

My voice cracked.

“No. Nothing is okay.”

Valerie’s tone shifted.

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure. Somewhere near the old bridge.”

“Stay right there. I’m coming to get you.”

She hung up.

Fifteen minutes later, her car pulled up.

I got in silently, eyes dull, body frozen.

“You look like hell,” she said gently, squeezing my hand.

“Let’s get you somewhere warm.”

We didn’t speak much on the ride. She didn’t press. Just drove.

Soon, we pulled into the parking lot of Rico’s, our favorite bar on the edge of the city.

“Brandy?” she asked.

“Double.”

Two rounds in, I finally spoke.

“He slept with her.”

Valerie’s brows furrowed.

“Malik?”

I nodded.

“With Charlotte. Today was supposed to be our wedding.”

Her jaw dropped.

“That pig. What a jerk.”

I downed another sip.

“I walked in on them. He said I was bad in bed. That she was better. I was stupid to think he’d actually marry me.”

Valerie covered her mouth in horror.

“And my dad…” I couldn’t finish. My voice broke.

“He slapped me. Defended her. Disowned me. Gave her the company.”

She reached across the table, grasped my hand.

“I’m so sorry. No one deserves that. Especially not you.”

I stared into my glass.

“I feel like I don’t exist anymore.”

Valerie shook her head.

“You do. And you’re going to rise. This isn’t the end. It’s just the start of your comeback.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

“He told me not to ride in his car,” I said bitterly.

“As if I’d ever want to again.”

Valerie snorted.

“Let him choke on his guilt. You don’t need him. Or your selfish father.”

The burn grounding me as I I took a slow sip of the brandy,

I didn’t know what tomorrow held.

But tonight, I was with someone who cared.

And maybe—just maybe—that was the first step toward healing.

And maybe—just maybe—it was also the first step toward revenge.

Just as I close my eyes to rest my head on the bar table, Valerie's phone buzzes. She glances at the screen and freezes.

"What is it?" I ask curiously, lifting my head slowly.